


Dragging Me Down

by enochiansammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Hell, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2160378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enochiansammy/pseuds/enochiansammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sam/Reader- reader makes a deal to save Dean and doesnt tell the guys, but they're with her when the hell hounds come. But she gets out of hell, but is changed" -As requested anonymously to me on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part one, where the reader is taken down by the hounds.

"Y/N watch out!" 

Dean’s voice echoed in your head as you stared at his limp body sprawled across the bloody motel bed. The sheets around him were stained with a dark red and his jacket was ripped and laid out around him. This was not what you’d planned. In the middle of nowhere in a crappy motel with a broken hand and…

Even in your head you couldn’t finish that sentence as the tears stung in your eyes again. What were you gonna do? What could you say to Sam? You’d failed him, and Dean.

 

It had taken a lot of convincing to get Sam to be okay with Dean and you hunting on your own after he had the injury. There was no way that he could have gone anywhere with his leg as bad as it was.

Dropping your head into your hands you allowed the tears to flow. One of your best friends lay lifeless in the bed opposite and you had no idea what to do about it. 

There’s one thing you can do.

You tried to ignore it but the voice in the back of your head wouldn’t go. 

You’ve fucked up so bad.

Clenching your fists you took another desperate look at Dean’s peaceful face, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. He looked just like he was sleeping if you discounted the blood smeared all over his face and the deep gashes on his forearms peaking out from under his rolled up sleeves.

There’s one thing you can do.

Shut up.

Dean’s done it for Sam. No one cares for Sam as much as you do, what’s stopping you?

Shut up.

So you’re just gonna let Sam’s heart get ripped in two? Let his brother die?

"Shut up!" You screamed, clutching your head. A part of you froze, scared you’d wake Dean but it thawed as soon as you realised he wasn’t waking up. Ever. Unless you did the only thing you could…the only thing to save Dean, to save Sam too.

You had to.

————————————————

Scraping the last of the gravel over your offerings, you warily stood up and looked around. Nothing.

"Oh come on." You threw your arms to your sides "Hurry the hell up-"

"Y/N." A smooth voice spoke quietly into your ear and you automatically spun around to face the speaker. 

A woman stood before you. She had light grey-blue eyes and red lips, turned up in a smug half smile.

"What brings you to this part of town?" She smirked and paced around you, looking you up and down as her heels clicked menacingly on the stones.

"I want to make a deal." You scowled, clenching your fists at your side.

"Oh, no need to sound so forceful. Could be considered rude." You could practically feel her distaste radiating through your skin and ache in your bones. "Let me guess, offering your soul, huh?"

Her gaze met yours again and her eyes darkened “Who says I want it?”

This was your turn to laugh “Of course you do. You monsters want all you can get.”

"I wouldn’t be so sure. I noticed what happened to your little Dean…"

You gritted your teeth at the dancing glint in her eyes, reflecting the moon. “Of course you do. You seem to know everything.” You cut her smug laugh short “-and don’t take that as a compliment. You still disgust me”

"Now, what did I say about being rude?" She cocked her head to the side, giving you a provokingly condescending look.

"Cut the crap. Will you take my soul in return for Dean’s life?"

"Wow, you really screwed up this time didn’t you Y/N…" She sensed your growing anger "Screwed up so bad you’ve killed Dean…what’s Sam gonna say huh? Personally, I don’t think he’s gonna want you after you’ve caused the death of the person he cared about the most."

"Shut the hell up and tell me if you-"

"I might reject you, just for the pleasure of seeing you suffer. Alone again like always. Angry, rejected-"

Every fibre of you wanted to punch her, even though you knew it would do pretty much nothing.

Nonetheless, you swung and hit her square in the nose. Stumbling back slightly she covered her nose and swiped her hand across her face, her smug grin dropping as her lips formed a thin line and her whole face took on a sinister light under the starry sky. 

Before she could speak you took a step towards her, your face inches from hers “So, are you doing the deal or not?”

"I’ll give you six months."

"A year."

"Six months."

"Ten months."

"Six months."

"Jesus, you guys really don’t negotiate do you?"

"Well punching me in the face doesn’t help your cause."

"Ah, little bitch. You’re reacting like you’re practically human." You laughed to yourself

"Shut up and listen. I’ll give you six months, take it or leave it." Her face had lost all hints of smugness and her eyes were matte black; not a glint in sight.

For Dean.

"I’m waiting. I don’t have all night."

For Sam.

"Six months." You steadied yourself "Okay."

Her hands grabbed either side of your face and as her lips crashed into yours, you knew it was final. You were dying. But you were dying for the people you loved, that made it worth it.

Six months left.

———————————————————

”Y/N?” Sam frowned at you and you realised you’d totally zoned out, staring at the rain drops streaming down the window.

"Oh yeah, sorry I just sort of…" You didn’t finish your sentence, simply looked down at the untouched burger laying on the motel table in front of you.

As it got nearer to the date you’d been dreading the hallucinations as they had gotten worse, you tried to avoid eye contact with people and attempted to fade into the background of life.

"You gonna eat that?" Dean’s gruff voice broke you from your trance and you glanced up at him quickly, shaking your head as you slid the burger towards him.

As much as you had tried to not make your nerves obvious, Sam had noticed. He knew you better than anyone in the world; you should have guessed he’d notice something was wrong. For almost a month you hadn’t let him get close to you, not letting him show any intimacy towards you because the hallucinations were too strong; there was no guarantees that you wouldn’t hallucinate while you were kissing, while you were in bed, while he was holding you. It made your heart ache because you wanted to badly to be held but were too scared; scared the one you loved so much would scare you. 

"Y/N?" Sam’s familiar voice drew your attention and you raised your head, only for your eyes to be met by your worst fear.

His distorted features stretched grotesquely and his skin went a strained, red colour as a sickening noise drew from within him. A horrific cracking noise hit your eardrums, vibrating through your brain and sending a mix of shock and disgust through you veins, pulsating through your body. Again the cracking noise came as his head twisted to extreme angles and teeth glinted and stretched, eyes rolling back until all was left was the misty white.

You squealed and stumbled from your chair, tripping clumsily and landing on the floor with a thud; choking on your own sharp intake of breath. 

Well that was stupid, how are you gonna get out of this one?

Not like it mattered anyway. This was your last day; in a few minutes the boys would see anyway. They’ll see what you’ve done. They’ll see you ripped to shreds.

But it’s worth it.

You felt strong arms hook under yours and lift you to your feet, holding your shoulders to turn you to face Sam.

"Y/N seriously, what’s the matter with you?" His eyebrows were close-knit and he looked down at you with his beautiful, brown eyes "You’re being so weird lately, it’s like you don’t even want to be around me…"

He looked down to his side and dropped his hands from your shoulders. “You can’t even look at me.”

You couldn’t force yourself to look up, the hallucinations were too vivid now. “Y/N why won’t you just look at me?” You heard his voice crack a little and felt sorry for Dean having to sit there and watch all this.

"I’m so sorry." You stared hopelessly at your shoes.

"For what?"

You glanced at Dean who paused mid-mouthful with an unattractive amount of burger bread hanging out of his mouth, and you tried hard to suppress a laugh; you loved these boys so much.

"For lying-" You paused and shook your head "No, not lying. Withholding information."

You could guess that Dean was raising his eyebrows and judged by Sam’s uncomfortable shuffle that they were both confused; which gave you some comfort that all this time they had no idea.

Over Sam’s shoulder you could see the clock

11:45

15 minutes left

Tell them now

Or tell them 

Never

Taking a deep breath, you met Sam’s gaze with a steely expression.

"When you were injured and me and Dean went on that hunt in Texas, not everything went to plan. There was some complications and Dean got hurt. He got hurt bad."

"Y/N-"

"No, let me finish." You swallowed back your nerves. "Dean…died while I was driving him to the hospital."

Behind you, you heard a choking noise as Dean practically spat out his burger “I what?” He stared at you, leaning forward in shock “Again?”

"Yes again. You died and it was my fault. I didn’t know what to do." You sighed and turned back to face Sam, his face surprising you with its coldness.

"Y/N what have you done?"

"Sam, let me-"

"No Y/N, what have you done?" He shouted and you staggered back

"I-I wasn’t about to let him die!" You retaliated "How the hell would I break that to you Sam? Go on, tell me. Dean is the person you love most in the world and I let you down!"

By now, both of the boys were stunned, their mouths hanging open and limbs hanging weakly.

"I made a deal." You glanced at the clock "My soul for Dean’s life."

11:53

Seven minutes

"No. No. No this can’t be happening." Sam started babbling, running his fists through his hair, turning and pacing frantically away from you. "I’m not losing you too, this isn’t fair."

Dean stood up and walked quickly towards you, grabbing your wrist. “Y/N what the hell? Why the hell did you do that?” 

"I couldn’t let you die! You took me in, you guys cared for me, you protect me-"

"No! You can’t sacrifice yourself for me, that’s not okay."

"Too late now isn’t it!"

He threw your wrist back down and raked his hand through his hair, just like Sam had done.

A faint howl came from the distance and you choked back nervous tears.

It’s worth it.

You kept playing that over in your mind.

It’s worth it. It’s worth it. It’s worth it. It’s worth it.

"Y/N no you can’t go yet." Sam’s eyes were brimming with tears that occasionally spilled over and ran down his cheeks "I’m not losing you."

"I- I’m sorry" You choked, swiping your hand across your damp cheeks "But I’m not sorry at all because- because I saved the person that deserved it."

"You deserved it too Y/N!" Sam’s desperate tone shattered your heart: the sound of its shards piecing your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe, drowning out the faint howling. "You deserve to live too! Why didn’t you tell me? We could have fixed this another way!"

"This is my fault." Dean’s voice was faint and small. You looked at him as his green eyes glazed over "Why should you have to pay?" 

Before you knew it, he had thrown his arms around you and was holding you tight. He had been like a brother to you for the last five years and now you could tell his heart was imploding, you saw it in his eyes and posture; his deflated gait and distant stares.

"You have to promise me you’ll look after Sammy okay?"

"Y/N you can’t-"

"No Dean, I have no choice. Swear that you will."

"You know I will. I swear." He bit back his emotions and tensed up, standing straight and meeting your eyes as he promised.

11:59

One minute

Dean stood back and listened with dread to the hounds.

Everything faded into the background as you and Sam stared at each-other from across the room. He shook his head in disbelief as the clock clicked.

00:00

Times up.

He ran to you and swept you off your feet, kissing you passionately as salty tears streamed down both of your faces. 

"Bury me somewhere pretty, okay?" You choked out with a humourless laugh "None of that mass graveyard crap. I want a nice, quiet place because it’s sure as hell not quiet where I’m going."

It was too late before you realised the irony in your words and Sam coughed out another cry as his emotion took over; clutching you ever closer.

"I’m gonna find a way to get you back" He grit his teeth and whispered into your neck "I’m gonna get you back here because I can’t lose you, especially not like this."

"Sammy" The hounds were close, you could hear them and sense them as your bones racked and your stomach heaved "There’s no getting me back. No getting out of this. This is the end. You’ll never know how much I love you."

He gripped you like he could protect you from the world, and for that moment he could. You relaxed in his strong, safe arms and his warm breath trailed down your neck. You cried into his shirt as he bit back his tears, trying to be strong for you.

It’s time.

The door broke down with an ear-splitting crash and you reluctantly pulled away from Sam, shaking him off as he tried to grab you back. Growls surrounded you and you looked at Dean, telling him with your expression to let this happen: keep Sam away, protect him like he’d sworn.

Clenching your fists for the last time at your side, you shut your eyes tight and readied yourself for what you knew would be the worst pain you’d ever experienced. 

Nothing could have quite prepared you. It was over, it was your time and you felt the life being drawn from within you as you fell to the floor, deep gashing opening up your skin and hot blood pooling around you. The sound of Sam yelling and Dean scuffling to hold him back were slowly drowned out by the growing buzzing in your ears and you opened your eyes, witnessing your own arteries gushing and blackness closing in on your vision.

You could feel nothing. The scratching and ripping had gone. The biting and tearing no more. Only the certain feeling of drifting away remained as Sam hooked an arm under your head, looking into your eyes and wiping hair from your bloody forehead.

"I’m gonna get you back." He cried "I promise."

I promise

I promise

I promise

Black.


	2. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part, in which the reader returns from hell.

"Hold still huh, sweet heart? Make it easier for me."

Your skin seared and ripped beneath the sharp metal, contracting and shuddering against the unnatural pressure.

"How does that feel, huh?"

Suppressing screams, you writhed against your bindings. Though your ears were filled with nothing but distraught screams and horrific sounds of flesh being sliced open; you refused to release a single sound. A single murmur.

For days, months, you’d screamed and choked; wishing for numbness and sanctity but were met only by the satisfied laughs of your tormentor. No more. No more.

"Not talking to me baby?"

His face was smudged with blood and his eyes danced over your wounds, licking his lips before driving the knife deep into your stomach as blood threw back up through your throat and flooded your mouth with a vile, bitter taste of blood and hatred.

————————————-

Gasping, you opened your eyes to the darkness around you. The street was abandoned and the cold felt too real against the contrast of the last eight months of your life.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you were standing with no wounds and no broken bones; and that felt strangely unnatural. The boiling heat of the deepest pits of hell were so familiar to you that the hard ground and clean air made your head spin.

————————————-

Your head stopped spinning as a brutal punch met your jaw, knocking it out for the third time today. Every time you reformed you felt momentary relief, a break from the pai but as soon as you were whole it all just started again. Torn in two, ripped in three, experiments as to how many parts of yourself could you live without.

Apparently the kidney and a large chunk of the abdomen were pretty essential to life.

————————————

Out of a newly instilled instinct, you reached for your abdomen and clutched it; gulping and blocking out memories of your experiences. There was something about being back out that made everything seem so numb. You had no strong feelings: no fear, no pain, nothing.

Getting out of hell hadn’t been easy but it was something that had to be done; you never wanted to end up like some of the disturbed bastards you’d seen down there. Crawling your way back out was something you also didn’t care to relive because it made your head throb and your pride seem non-existent.

What pride do you have now anyway? You’re destroyed. Ruined. Violated. Changed.

Changed. That word seemed to stick in your head and spin round and round, tapping your skull without leaving a mark. Nothing about your exterior had changed: no scars were left, no marks or bruises, no missing limbs. But now, looking into the backlit glass of the empty shop window you could see something had changed.

Your eyes. Always so bright previously, now glazed and misty. Your skin was gray and drained of all vibrancy. You didn’t look like yourself.

You didn’t feel like yourself either.

Swallowing hard, you dragged your eyes away from the window and looked down the street to the blinking motel sign. Crude neon lights flashed fluorescent colours into the darkness, glaring into your eyes and penetrating your brain and thoughts; but not reaching your soul.

Nothing would ever reach that again.

Not for love nor money.

Not for love. Not for Sam.

Everything about getting out of hell was risky, there was no way it would go undetected for too long. It was obvious that some day you’d be dragged back, kicking and screaming, to the depths of dark filled fire to spend the rest of eternity on a rack; being ripped to shreds over and over. 

You found that the thoughts of your future were the only things that evoked feeling within you; you were numb. No worry for your friends and no regret for your past; no happiness in your escape and no relief in your freedom. Forever the knowledge of being yanked back into the eternal perdition hung around your mind, clouding and suffocating your emotion. 

Deep down in the part of your conscience that you had long since boarded up, you could feel an ache emerging where the longing for Sam: the craving for his touch, the desperation for the safety of his arms. 

Nothing else mattered any more.

And that’s what scared you.

————————————————————-

Striding up the metal steps, your heels clicking on the silver plates, you began to wonder why your brain was denying you feeling. Why you were denying yourself emotion.

For what felt like years you’d yearned and craved for Sam, for Dean, for freedom and food and music and life. But once you took your first step on solid ground something changed; something inside you clicked.

It was as if your own body was subconsciously warning you not to get too close to people in case you hurt them again; just like you did to Sammy. Every second of every day, the sight of his pained face and tear filled eyes was burned into your retina. 

It was because of that, that you needed to see the boys. Last time you’d seen them, you’d broken their hearts so you owed them this much. Every fibre of your being was yelling at you to turn around and leave the motel, leave the town. You knew all too well that you weren’t safe and never would be, that if you went back to Sam he’d have to lose you all over again.

So selfish.

You knew that it was selfish but you could no longer deny yourself his touch, he would be strong and so would you. Maybe he could help; keep you safe from hell forever? Unlikely.

Everything else seemed irrelevant at that moment as you reached the top of the stairs, looking at the back of your hand for their room number- despite the fact you hadn’t forgotten since you were told it three days ago.

Room 27

Forcing your hands down to your sides, you walked along the balcony-landing, counting the rooms you passed.

Room 20

Are you ready?

Room 23

What if they don’t want to see you…

Room 24

What if they’ve moved on…

Room 26

What if you really weren’t worth saving?

You were there. Standing in front of the door, everything felt just as surreal as the day you’d crawled out of perdition. Yet somehow scarier.

Be strong Y/N.

Nervously raising your hand, you realised the numbness was slightly thawing: anxiety and panic beginning to chip away at the lock on your soul.

"You gonna get that Sammy?"

"Dean, you’re right next to the door."

"Yeah I’m busy"

"Fine."

This is it. You’re gonna have back your Sammy, you’re gonna get back your life!

The door swung open and suddenly he was right there, so close you could reach out and touch him.

Raising your head, you met his eyes and smiled softly.

"Hi Sammy."

His face froze, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. Your heart skipped a beat

Oh god…maybe he didn’t want to see you

"Sammy who’s at the door?" Dean emerged from the door opposite where you were standing, toothbrush in hand. "What the-"

Before Dean could even finish his sentence, Sam had wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you clean off the ground, pressing his face to your shoulder with an almost inaudible groan.

His movements were frantic as he shifted to support you with one arm, your legs wrapped around him, and took the other to stroke your hair; leaning close to your face as his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was sweet, laced with desperation and devastation. It was as though he was clinging to you in fear you would disappear at any minute, any second now be snatched away from him without warning.

You drew back and looked directly into his eyes, struggling to keep your face still as you choked back tears; noting that he was doing the exact same.

"Y/N…" He was struggling to get his words out as he gently pushed a hair out of your face "I-I don’t even know what to say."

You didn’t reply, simply gripped him closer and shut your eyes; blocking out the world until it was just the two of you.

"Y/N?" Dean’s voice met your ears but you didn’t look up. Nothing could tear you away from Sammy. "Y/N is that really you?" 

He sounded suspicious but Sam continued holding you, dismissing his brother. “Sam put her down. We don’t know that’s Y/N.”

Sam pulled back slightly and placed you smoothly back on the ground; positioning himself slightly in front of you.

"Sammy I’m serious. Move." Dean was beyond suspicious now, he sounded genuinely angry "Y/N went to hell. There’s no way that’s her."

"Yea Dean, so? You went to hell and yet here you are!" Sam was getting defensive and tensions were rising but you didn’t feel anxious, only annoyed.

"Dean, it’s me for gods sake." You stepped in front of Sam, shaking him off as he tried to pull you back. "Look" you pinched your arm "Totally real."

"Yea you may be real but how do we know you’re not some sick demon, huh?" His stance hardened as he took a step towards you "Some twisted shape-shifter?"

He lunged for you but before you could even think you’d reacted, grabbing his arm and twisting it around, whilst applying pressure to his wrist and delivering a swift punch to the gut. Your body was acting without your consent as you threw him on the floor, breathing heavily over him.

"Y/N what the hell?" Sam rushed forward, pushing you aside and helping Dean up.

"…I don’t know how I-"

"Of course you know how, you’re not Y/N!" Dean lunged again but Sam held him back as you snarled at him.

"I’ll prove it, huh?" You jerked your head at him "Will that make you happy?" From in the side of your boot you drew a silver knife, bringing it to your forearm with a steady hand and scowling at Dean.

You couldn’t even think why you were so angry but you were, ever since you’d got out of the pits you were just so easily angered.

So easily changed.

With that thought you dug the knife deep into your flesh without so much as a gasp, cutting right into the muscle causing hot blood to pour out and fall in thick drops to the carpet as your practically felt your heart lock up again. The physical pain of the cut didn’t bother you because after spending eighty years in hell being shredded apart, a bloody arm felt like a kitten lick.

"That still not good enough Dean?" On the dresser next to you there was a flask of holy water, lid lying abandoned next to it. You grabbed it and took a long swig, dropping the flask to the floor and turning to the door.

Without looking back you opened it and slammed it shut after you, running weakly down the balcony to the stairs and escaping into the night.

They don’t believe you’re the same. You’ll never be the same, and that’s not good enough.

—————————————————————

The biting cold threatened your skin with goosebumps as you remained crouched down, leaning on the rough brick wall of the gas station. You twisted the knife around on your finger expertly with enough pressure to raise blood-flow but not enough to draw blood.

What were you doing here? You no longer belonged in the normal world. After what you’d seen…what you’d done.

The thoughts haunted you and with all your might you still couldn’t block them out. 

You deserve to be in pain. 

You glanced at the knife.

You’re not normal, you freak. Rip yourself apart. Just like they did in hell. That’s what you deserve.

Without much thought you slid the knife along your finger, across your palm and up your wrist and forearm, drawing a thin red line of blood. Your rolled up sleeves blocked further movement so you retraced your line, making a parallel pattern.

The sight of the blood bought satisfaction but it wasn’t the same, you were doing this for everyone:

For Sam who you hurt, for Dean who you injured, for Hell because that’s where you should be…and for all those souls you skinned because you were too weak- too pathetic- to hold out for longer.

Raising the knife above your head you admired the way the moon reflected off it, adding light to your internal darkness. One slight move of the knife though and the moon was blocked, the night reminding you that you were alone. 

With a quick movement, you bought the knife down and thrust it into your leg; throwing your head back and gasping as it penetrated the muscle. Pulling the knife back out just worsened the pain and you choked out a forced laugh at yourself. Such a mess.

Dean doesn’t want you here, he’ll never believe it’s you. And even if he does then there’ll always be a part of you that doesn’t believe it’s you either: always telling you that you’re a different person now; barely even human.

You’re a demon in a mask. You’ve ripped people to shreds and now you’re parading around like an innocent, normal person. You’re messed up.

Bringing the knife to your face, you teased your jaw-line with its tip before digging in and dragging it from your cheekbone to your chin, feeling the pain sink in as the blood fell out.

Got to let out the poison in my blood.

You only realised when you were crying because a salty drop trickled across your lips, reminding you that you were real. Reminding you where you were. 

How could you possibly think that coming back to Sam would make everything okay? Nothing could ever remove the screams of hell from your mind, eradicate the guilt of enjoyment in someone else’s pain.

"Y/N?" The voice was soft but clear in the night-time quiet. "What-what have you done to yourself?"

You knew that voice, it was a voice you could never forget.

Sam strode over to you and crouched next to you, slightly stumbling when he noticed the gashes on your arm and face, the gouged out flesh protruding from your jeans.

Almost on instinct from years of experience, he whipped off his jacket and ripped off the left sleeve, using it as a bandage around your leg.

"Hold that there, keep lots of pressure on it. For god’s sake drop that knife!" He seemed panicked as he wrapped the rest of the jacket around your quivering shoulders. "Y/N I’m getting you to a hospital."

"No!" Your voice cracked, making you sound like a pleading child "No don’t."

He paused, seemingly confused. “Why?”

"I-I don’t deserve saving." You blinked back tears. "What I did down there…I’m barely human any more."

"Y/N" He took your face in his hands "Of course you are. You’re still human, you’re still you."

"No, I’m not!" You fought back indignantly "I tore people limb from limb Sam! I’m a monster!" 

Your blood flow increased with your protests and Sam took your hand, forcing you to apply more pressure to your leg.

"That was then. I’m not judging you." He focused on you intensely "You’re still my Y/N and we’re gonna get through this. I’m not losing you again, especially not like this."

You snorted “But you are going to lose me again! There’s no way I’ve escaped hell with no consequences.” The disgust you had for yourself was almost tangible “I’m so damn selfish that I had to see you, now I’m putting you through all this again.”

"No you’re not because I’m not losing you, I’ll fight it." He took your free hand in his and grasped you tight "I swear on my life that I’m not letting you go back; and you’re not sending yourself back either. I’ll do everything in my power and more to keep you with me."

You hung your head and began to cry uncontrollably, heaving your lungs with deep sorrowful breaths. Sam prised the knife from your fingers and stuffed it through his belt before lifting you up with both arms as you slung your limp arms around his neck, resting your head on his chest.

Since when were you this weak? It took a damn lot for you to cry.

But then again, since when had you felt such a sense of numbness to the elements, such anger towards yourself and others; such regret for everything you’d done.

"Sam I’m changed, I’m scarred." Your words were muffled through his shirt "What if you don’t like the new me?"

"Y/N I swore I’d always love you and you know damn well I keep my word. I could never stop loving you." His muscles tensed as he walked, holding you effortlessly.

Helping you down to the ground, he snaked an arm around your waist and supported the weight that would’ve been taken by your wounded leg. He opened the passenger seat to the impala and slid you in, adjusting the seat so you could put your leg up on the dash.

You raised your eyebrows, confused.

Noticing, he chuckled through his pained expression “Come on Y/N, you know this one: keep the wound above your heart, limit blood loss?”

Wincing, you managed somewhat of a smile and obliged, resting your ankle on the dash and leaning back in the clean interior.

"Dean’s gonna hate this, me getting blood all over his baby."

"Dean’s not gonna say a word." Sam sounded sure, his tone insinuating that Dean wouldn’t even get the chance. "Now put your seatbelt on, we’re going to hospital."

Cringing at the pain in your arm, you clicked your seatbelt into place as Sam started up the engine.

"I swear I’ll never let you go. I’ll never let you get hurt again."

"Sam, there are some things you can’t protect me-"

"No." He looked forward out the windscreen like he was looking into the future. "I’m gonna protect you properly this time. I promise. I don’t care if you’re different or scarred, you’re still the one I love most in the world."

You’ll never get hurt again.

I promise.


End file.
